


One-shots

by Madifishy



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Fallout 4, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Supernatural, The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anger, Angst, Awkward Crush, Awkwardness, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cheating, Crushes, Dancing, Dorks, Drinking, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Male Character, Gay Shiro (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Sex, Jealousy, Kissing, Love, Love Bites, M/M, Multi, Party, Partying, Rage, Rough Kissing, Roughness, Sleepy Boys, Slow Dancing, Smut, Spies, Titans, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-04 10:09:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12768795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madifishy/pseuds/Madifishy
Summary: I'm taking requests! The fandoms I am willing to fulfill requests for are posted in the fandoms section above. I will write just about any ship, with the exception of Voltron ships including Matt. I would love to write about Matt but I feel as though I haven't learned enough about him as a character yet. Sorry! As for the other fandoms, I will write just about any ship (companion-companion or companion-Sole surivor for Fallout 4 are both ok). I'll write just about anything and I should probably add that I'm incredibly familiar with every episode of Avatar, have played the entirety of Fallout 4, and am up to speed on The 100, Voltron, Attack on Titan, and Supernatural.Please try to keep the requests short and sweet, but don't be afraid to ask for what you want! I will post each request-fulfillment as soon as I am able. Thanks! :)Note: If you need to get an idea of my writing style, check out some of my other works before submitting a request. I would hate to write something that you end up disliking because of my style of writing. For those of you that are already familiar with me and my way of writing, ask away!





	1. Works Within This Work

(See the summary section for guide to making requests :) )

 

 **Directory:**  
  
Chapter 2: Voltron (Lance/Shiro)-  _Uh Oh_

Chapter 3: Voltron (Lance/Male OC)-  _More Than He Bargained For_

Chapter 4: Fallout 4 (Hancock/MacCready)-  _Lost_

Chapter 5: Attack on Titan (Sasha/Armin)-  _Spy_

Chapter 6: Voltron (Lance/Shiro)-  _And We Danced_

Chapter 7: TBA


	2. Uh oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> VOLTRON  
> Shiro/Keith
> 
> Lance hides out in Keith's room with the hopes of scaring Keith. He gets more than he bargained for. 
> 
> Written for anon <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this. I have no shame.
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos and comments! Thanks for reading!

Lance crouched behind Keith's short black wardrobe that was positioned just to the side of his door. He waited eagerly in Keith's room, ready to jump up and startle the red paladin the second he entered the room. Earlier that day, Hunk and Lance had devised a plan to spook Keith and get it on video. So here Lance was, crouching silently, phone in hand, ready to give his friend a good scare.

 

Lance heard footsteps approaching, and he couldn't keep a stupid grin from taking hold of his face. He was so excited to scare Keith. Keith never got scared. It was going to be so good to see him spooked for once. He quieted his excited breathing as the door glided open. He was ready to spring up when he heard a familiar voice. But the voice he heard wasn't the voice belonging to the paladin he had been waiting for. No, the voice he heard belonged to someone else.

 

"Are you sure? What if the others hear us?"

 

 _Shiro?_ Lance peeked around the side of the dresser just in time to see Keith back Shiro up against the wall, peppering his neck with kisses. "Hear us? Or hear you? You're not very good at being quiet", Keith noted.

 

Shiro opened his mouth to respond, but ended up stifling a groan as Keith's teeth nibbled at a sensitive spot on his neck. Shiro reached for Keith's hips, but Keith responded quickly, snagging both of Shiro's wrists and pinning the taller paladin's hands to the wall over his head. Shiro writhed helplessly and let out a small whine. 

 

Lance's jaw was dragging on the ground.  _What the quiznak_? He continued to watch silently, but quickly shot Hunk a text. ' _Hunk? We have a problem.'_ He lowered his phone, returning his full attention to the scene unfolding in front of him. Keith, still holding Shiro's hands over his head, walked him over to the bed. He then quickly released his wrists and placed a foot to Shiro's chest, gently pushing him down onto the mattress. 

 

Lance looked down at his phone, and read over the text back from Hunk. ' _What? Did you not scare him_?'

 

Lance lifted his phone, sending a live video to Hunk, focusing his phone's camera on the scene in front of him. Keith slowly climbed up onto the mattress, placing a knee on either side of Shiro's body, leaning down to nip at Shiro's ear. Keith held Shiro down, planting sloppy kisses down his body, peeling away his suit as he went. Keith peeled the suit all the way down to his waist, placing a harsh bite to each of Shiro's visible hip bones. Shiro whimpered in response, and Keith grinned. 

 

Suddenly and without warning, Lance sneezed loudly. Keith leaped from the bed and onto his feet, yanking a sword from the back of his belt and pointing it in the direction that the sneeze had come from. "Who is in here!" he shouted angrily, more of a confused shout than an actual question. Lance slowly stood, revealing his hiding space to the two other paladins. Keith looked furious, and Shiro looked embarrassed, his face burning red and his eyes wide, nowhere to hide his half naked body. 

 

Keith lowered the knife. "What the quiznak? Lance? Why are you here?"

 

This looked bad. Lance had been taking video of Keith and Shiro getting intimate, and had been hiding out in Keith's room prior to doing so. This looked  _really_ bad.

 

"Why is Shiro here?", Lance pressed, raising a brow and grinning. Keith's gaze faltered and his face blushed lightly. "Huh, Keith? Why is Shiro here?", Lance repeated.

 

"I'll pay you to keep this between us" Keith responded.

 

Lance grinned. "Deal."


	3. More Than He Bargained For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> VOLTRON  
> Male OC/Lance  
> Referenced Lance/Keith
> 
> Written for LawofTalosrules234
> 
> Request: "a reader-insert and/or OC request that....isn't the norm. I was hoping for something where said insert/OC has been a goody-goody all their life. So! They decide to do one crazy, outrageous thing before they leave their town for college out of state. This crazy thing is being a willing participant in helping Lance cheat on Keith after the two have a scalding argument; things go on for a good six months with only a few close calls. But mostly sex. That is until Lance decides he wants to leave Keith for the insert/OC.....who quickly tells that he's leaving in about three days and decides to break things off before it gets more....awkward. Which doesn't exactly end well for him since he ends up getting chased by a hysterical and delusional Lance and an extremely pissed off Keith, knives at the ready....."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting! I had to give myself some time on this one. I had to really get into the feeling of the OC and I wanted to make sure that there was obvious character development. In addition to that, my birthday falls on the 24th of November, and there has been a little bit of prep going into that. Nevertheless, here it is! Enjoy! Comments and kudos are always super appreciated.

Doyle's feet pounded down the concrete floor of the alleyway, his heart ricocheting uncontrollably within his chest.  _Stupid._ It had been stupid to do this. He should've backed out before anything had ever started. But as much as he told himself this, his mind kept returning to those nights he had with Lance and. . .well, he couldn't regret what he had done.

 

Doyle made a sharp left, his feet sliding along the hot pavement. He turned into a narrower alley, Keith and Lance's voices loudly echoing from somewhere not so far behind him. "I'll rip your  _fucking_ heart out!" Keith's voice shouted. Right as he sensed them rounding the corner, Doyle lept behind an old, broken refrigerator that someone had tossed out into the alley. He held his breath, afraid that one of the boys would be able to hear his still-beating heart. But, to his luck, he heard their quick paced footsteps pass right by him, continuing down the alley, and back out onto the busy street.

 

When he was finally certain that the coast was clear, he let out a deep exhale. He hadn't gotten out of bed this morning expecting to be chased by his delusional and heart-broken lover, or by his delusional lover's ex-lover while he brandished knives. He allowed some time for his racing heart to return to a normal pace, and he forced himself to recount the last six months activities.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lance let out a hot breath. "Come on, I'm not asking for much."

 

Doyle half laughed-half sighed. "You're asking me to sleep with you to get back at your boyfriend. And you're doing this because you got into ONE argument with him."

 

Lance crossed his arms over his chest. "Well when you put it that way. . ." 

 

Doyle thought to himself. He'd never done something like this before. He wasn't one for helping his friends get back at other people. But Lance was his closest friend, and his reasoning for his actions seemed almost justified. Not that cheating was ever justifiable, but if it was, this would be the most realistic reason for it to be. From what Lance had told him, the argument between him and Keith had been incredibly heated, and Keith had said some pretty terrible, unforgivable things. To get back at Keith, Lance had asked to have a one-night stand with his best friend. Though, Doyle felt that perhaps this was more than just to get back at Keith. Lance seemed truly upset. And when Lance had turned up at his apartment, teary-eyed and emotional, it had been hard to tell him no.

 

"Alright, but just this once, ok? I don't want this to become a regular thing. This is just a one-"

 

Before he even had a chance to finish, Lance was on him, kissing his neck, hands sliding up under his shirt to press against his warm stomach. Lance's hands were chilly, and the cold sensation on his lower stomach sent electricity pulsing through his whole body. "Lance", he murmured, attempting to regain his composure. But he was already past being able to put himself back together, the willingness in his heart and the tightness in his jeans told him that. 

 

Lance removed his jacket, throwing it to the ground, shoving Doyle back onto the small mattress that Doyle had spent the last year or so sleeping on alone. Lance climbed on top of him, pausing while straddling him to remove his shirt. As Lance's body was revealed, Doyle practically growled in anticipation. Lance removed Doyle's glasses and carefully folded them, placing them cautiously on the side table; a stark contrast to how he had chucked his own clothes across the room. Lance ran his slim fingers through the other boy's soft, blue hair, and Doyle just couldn't say no.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several months later. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Doyle sat on the edge of his bed and sighed, hanging his head in both hands. Lance pulled his pants on, not bothering with his belt, and seated himself next to his lover. "What's on your mind?" Lance asked, reaching for his shirt, which was in a rumpled heap on the floor. "Lance, we can't keep doing this."

 

"Doing what?" Lance questioned nonchalantly, lifting his shirt from the floor and inspecting it briefly before starting to pull it on over his head.

 

"We can't keep seeing each other. This was suppose to be a one time thing, not a forty or fifty time thing. I'm leaving in a couple of days for college and we need to break this off."

 

Lance froze, his shirt only halfway on. "W-what. . .did you just say?"

 

"I think we should break this off. I'm leaving tomorrow and-", a hand snagged Doyle's neck and his breath was trapped in his throat. He let out a gasp, papery sounding from the fingers clenched around his windpipe.

 

"Lance", he tried to shout, but it only came out as a whisper. He fumbled with the hand around his throat, struggling to free himself. Tears were forming in Lance's eyes, and Doyle felt his grip tighten. "You're. . . _leaving me?_

 

Doyle pried himself free from Lance's grip, inhaling sharply, pulling in several broken, raggedy breaths. Without warning, Lance lunged at him, knocking both of them off of the bed. Lance had Doyle pinned to the floor. "Lance, we can talk about this", Doyle offered, squirming underneath his lover. " _You want to leave me._ " Lance repeated, as Doyle wormed his way out of Lance's trap and made a bee-line for the door. "I'm going to tell Keith about this, and then it will be final. He deserves to know."

 

Doyle could see the fire in Lance's eyes as he lunged for the door, just barely missing grabbing Doyle by the arm. By the time Lance made it out of the apartment, Doyle was already down the stairs and almost to the door. Keith lived two blocks away, running there would be easy. But he couldn't predict how Keith was going to react to this news. He didn't really know Keith, but from what Lance had told him, Keith was a hothead with quite a temper. He rounded a street corner, and could hear Lance wail from somewhere in the distance behind him. He gulped in a breath of air and charged on, heading straight for Keith's apartment. The only reason he knew where Keith lived was because Lance had mentioned it one night, somewhere in the midst of his emotional ranting. Doyle rounded another corner and found himself face-to-face (or rather, chest-to-chest) with-

  
  
"Keith!" Doyle exclaimed, relieved. "Look, I don't really have time to fully explain right now, but-"

  
  
"You enabled Lance to cheat on me", Keith finished, fury in his gaze.

 

"Well, I-"

 

Keith pressed Doyle to the telephone post on the street corner, pressing a knife to his throat. " _You_ took Lance from me", Doyle grimaced as he felt the sharp edge of the knife press against the sweaty skin of his throat. " _You've been sleeping with Lance behind my back_."

 

Doyle was confused. "Wait, how did you know-"

 

Keith raised his phone, and several texts from Lance appeared on the screen. From the time stamps, it was obvious that they had been sent within the past few minutes. "I figured since we're both mad at you, I might as well beat Lance to the prize and  _skin you alive myself._ "

 

Doyle kneed Keith in the groin, then sprinted as soon as he was free, making a wild dash for the nearest alley.

 

" _You dick!"_ , Keith screamed. A knife soared by Doyle's head, missing his scalp by only a mere inch or two. This was bad. This was  _really_ bad.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

But even now, as he sat winded and breathless behind this old, rusted, beaten-up fridge in a dank and musty alleyway, he couldn't force himself to regret sleeping with Lance. Those nights were unforgettable, and no matter how hard he tried, Doyle couldn't force the memories from his brain. Though he pretended to hate himself for having no regret, at the same time he was glad that he couldn't force those memories to go away because, boy, would he love to be inside of Lance again, to do it all over again.


	4. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FALLOUT 4  
> Hancock/MacCready  
> Tumblr prompt
> 
> Request: "Got lost in a corn maze and found another person just as lost"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt fulfillment, I kind of envisioned that Mac and Hancock weren't buddies prior to the story.
> 
> Also I had a really fun time writing this because Hancock is the greatest and MacCready is a sweet little angel.

MacCready stumbled through the corn maze, scratching at his arms which were irritated from the corn stalks constantly brushing against them. He rubbed his face, his hand wiping away dirt from the corners of his eyes. He'd never had issues with getting dirty, but running around a field of corn for fun? Not exactly his style. But Vaultie had insisted that back in the pre-war days, people spent autumn running around corn mazes just like the one he found himself in right now. 

 

For the life of him, he couldn't understand why anyone in their right mind would willingly run head-first into a maze, especially a  _corn_ maze. Pre-war people were weird, and so were their pre-war hobbies. MacCready's boots thudded along the soil, which was hard and cracked from having had so many pairs of boots stomp over it already. The air was dusty from the dirt that had been kicked up into it, and he had to squint to avoid getting it in his eyes. He turned a corner, and clonked foreheads with another person, causing him to fall back onto his ass.

 

He rubbed his forehead and groaned. "Fu-frick. You got a hard head."

 

"Sorry", a raspy voice answered, and Mac looked up. A pair of coal black eyes stared back at him, each of which was set in a pinkish, wrinkled eye socket. The person was ghoulified, with a cracked, wrinkled face, and not much of a nose. They donned a red full-length coat, and a ridiculous tricorn hat. The stranger reached out a hand to help him up. "The name's Hancock. You lost too?"

 

Mac took his hand, and the ghoul helped him to his feet. "The name's Mac. MacCready. And I'm _not_ lost."

 

"Big name for a small squirt like you", the ghoul laughed.

 

Mac clenched his fists. "Not doing a very good job of making a first impression, walking up on me, knocking me down, and insulting my appearance."

 

Hancock shrugged. "Sorry, I've never been one for first impressions." Hancock turned on the heel of his boot, and began walking down the path which he had just approached from. Mac tagged along behind him. For a while, Hancock strode along in silence, swaggering slowly, occasionally reaching out a set of slender fingers to brush through the corn stalks. "Why you following me?"

 

"Figured you might have a better idea of where you're going." 

 

Hancock stopped, smiling over his shoulder at the younger boy. "So you  _are_ lost."

 

MacCready clenched his teeth. "I'm  _not_ lost."

 

"Then why bother following an old ghoul like myself. I know I'm handsome, but I don't usually draw a crowd", he joked, grinning and showing his surprisingly white teeth. MacCready couldn't help but notice how much his white teeth contrasted his dark eyes. It was actually kind of nice looking. . .

 

MacCready shook himself from his thoughts. He couldn't really be thinking a ghoul was attractive. And he wasn't into guys. But as he watched Hancock continue waltzing through the maze, his hips swaying gently, his arms hanging casually, and the way his boots trod carefully yet effortlessly through the dirt, he felt himself noticing the stranger's more appealing features.  

 

"Nice view?", Hancock asked.

 

Mac's face burned red, and he looked at the ground, shielding his embarrassed gaze with the brim of his hat. "No need to be shy. I think you're pretty attractive too."

 

Mac looked up quickly and met Hancock's quirky gaze and toothy smile.  _God_ , what was it about this man that was so appealing? "Well, since we're both lost, and we  _cleary_ both enjoy each other's company, why don't we be lost together?" Mac asked, speeding up to walk alongside the ghoul.

 

"Sounds like a plan to me, kid. And I can't deny wanting to get more lost with you."


	5. Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ATTACK ON TITAN  
> Armin/Sasha  
> Written for J93
> 
> "Attack on Titan: Armin/Sasha - Sasha is abducted by Marley spies in order to lure Armin and any other Titan Shifters into a trap. What they don't know is that Sasha is quiet cable in handling things herself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the super long delay in works posted. I've had my hands incredibly full lately and I haven't had the time to sit down and write. It feels to be back at the keyboard again, and I thank everyone for being patient with me :)
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated, and I hope that I have fulfilled the prompt to satisfaction.

Sasha groaned as she peeled her eyelids open, allowing sharp daylight to sear into her eyes. She winced, squinting her eyes against the bright white light.  _Why the hell is it so bright_?

 

She blinked several times, forcing her sleep-induced daze off of her. She tried to sit up, but found her body restrained. Her wrists tugged against restraints behind her back, and she found that she was bound by her midsection to the wall. She groaned and pressed all her weight against the restraints, but to no avail. She surveyed the area where she had awoken. It appeared to be a small wooden room, with one single window, a narrow open slot at the very top of the room that couldn't have been more than a few inches tall. It was from this window that a beam of light came down from, landing directly in her eyes, making her vision blurred.

 

She closed her eyes for a moment, and could feel that the room appeared to be vibrating. No, not vibrating, she could hear the quiet sound of wheels turning. The familiar squeaky sound came back to her and her eyes snapped open. She was in a horse drawn cart. A wooden room attached to a horse drawn cart. 

 

She looked around the room, which was entirely bare save for a small shelf bolted to the corner adjacent from where she was bound. On the shelf were some official looking papers, a few books with cracked and faded spines, along with some navigation tools: a compass, a sextant, and some more complicated looking pieces that she didn't recognize. There was a sturdy, heavy bookshelf next to the table, filled with archaic looking scientific equipment. On the wall to her left there were hooks containing various pieces of weaponry and gear.  _How had she gotten here? And where was, well, here?_

 

She tried to remember what had happened that had landed her here, but her mind came up blank. She gasped as the wheels hit a dip in the road and her body was momentarily lifted off of the floor. There were no doors in this room, so how had she gotten in? Who had put her here?   
  
As if an answer to her thoughts, a piece of the wooden wall of the room suddenly retracted; a hidden door. The door was removed and a short figure entered, their body covered entirely by a long, dark cloak. The door was replaced and the room dimmed again, save for the bright light emanating from the single, narrow window. Sasha watched as they entered and approached her, stopping just short of stepping on her. "Having a nice ride?"

 

The voice was female, and this was confirmed when the cloaked figure lowered the hood over their head to reveal a pale face, dark hair, and almond shaped eyes. The woman couldn't have been very tall from what Sasha could tell. She appeared to be just barely five feet in height. The woman dropped to her knees and caught Sasha's chin in her right hand, making eye contact. Sasha growled and tore her face from the woman's grip, and the woman smiled. "Feisty."

 

"Who are you and why am I here?", Sasha barked, tugging again on her restraints.

 

The woman clicked her tongue and cocked her head, her thin, dark hair crossing over part of her face. "You don't remember?"

 

"I wouldn't be asking otherwise", Sasha snapped.

 

"Before we captured you, I didn't pin you as the loud, rude kind." The mysterious woman leaned back, squatting with her heels flat to the floor, her elbows resting on her knees. "You and your fellow cadets were out on a regular run, simply observing the walls, noting any minor damages, that sort of thing. You ran into us and, well", the woman chuckled and her eyes seemed to glisten, "let's just say we weren't very friendly.

 

"Fending off the pitiful soldiers was easy. But you, you put up quite a fight. So, naturally, I ordered my men to capture you and take you with us. Figured it couldn't be too hard to lure your friends and the other monsters into a trap."

 

Sasha's brows shifted to form a confused look. "Trap?"

 

The woman tutted and stood up, dusting herself off and placing a hand to her hip, the cloak retreating to reveal the woman's thin, petite frame. "The blonde boy seemed to care for you quite a lot. And if he cares for you, he'll certainly be willing to drag himself and your friends right to where we want them."

 

"Which is where, exactly?" Sasha questioned, as visions of Armin crossed through her mind. Of course Armin would come and try to help her escape. They had a relationship unlike any other, and Sasha knew that he would risk her life to save her. Armin was going to recruit a squadron to come rescue her. He was going to bring himself and others right into a trap.

 

"That's for me to know, and you to find out. Now, your friends should be arriving within the hour, and I wouldn't want to be caught off guard, so I'll be returning to my work now to set up a proper trap for these. . . _monsters_ , that are coming to throw themselves into a trap while attempting to save you." The woman returned to the door, pushing it open and exiting, before replacing the door. Sasha hear a noise that sounded like a dead bolt being locked.  _Great_. 

 

She sat up against the wall, folding her legs up under herself, and reached her slender fingers down into her boot. She retrieved a slender, sharpened blade with a sleek, brown handle. She always kept a blade on her, never knew when she'd need it. This blade in particular was important to her, though. Armin had bought it for her on one of the days when they actually had a chance to take some time off of their work and training. She turned the blade over in her hand, examining the heart that had been crudely yet lovingly etched into the handle. She ran her thumb over the indent in the wood and smiled. She had to escape. She had to escape for Armin. The lives of him and several other cadets depended on it. 

 

She flipped the knife around so that the blade was between her palms, the sharp edge against the leather straps that held her hands bound. She leaned back, using her body weight to force the blade through the leather with a sharp, tearing sound. She held her freed hands in front of her, massaging one of her palms. She shook her head, moving a stray strand of her brown hair from her eyes as she glanced around the room, the gears in her mind turning wildly as she thought up an escape plan. She easily sliced away the strap around her midsection that bound her to the wall, and she stood, whirling around so that she could survey the entire room. The window was far too small for her to escape through, that much was clear.

 

Maybe she could break the door off. The mysterious woman had made it look easy enough to enter and exit through the door, so perhaps there was a simple way to break the door off. An idea burned itself into Sasha's mind, and she went right to work. This was a stagecoach, of sorts. A makeshift, cagey, prison-like stagecoach, but a stagecoach nevertheless. She remembered Armin telling her one time that the weight must be evenly dispersed in a stage coach. When she asked why, he had told her that too much weight on one area could break the wheels, and the coach would fall to the ground. 

 

She whirled around and dropped to her knees beside the table, unscrewing it from the wall, using her nails to twist the bolts out of the wall. She pocketed the screws (might come in handy later) and threw the table into one corner of the room. She them gathered all the books and papers and placed them in the corner as well. She pressed all her weight to the bookshelf, but couldn't get it to budge. She climbed on top of the bookshelf, wedging one foot between the wall and the back of the large book case. Then, using all of her weight, she pressed her back against the wall as hard as she was able. The bookshelf began to fall forward, and Sasha leaped out of the way as it fell to the ground, taking the bottom of the stage coach with it. The bottom of the stage coach fell out, and Sasha fell out with it. She was deposited roughly onto the ground, and she sat up and shook her head, her vision blurred from the fall. She looked over her shoulder; the horses were panicking, the stagecoach was now missing two back wheels and the  _entire_ floor. Sasha's smile faded as she saw people charging at her. The people were cloaked in the same dark outfits as the woman who had spoken with her just a few minutes earlier. Sasha hurriedly stood and bolted forward. She was in the woods. She didn't know what woods, but she knew she was in the woods which meant. . .

 

Her eyes traveled to her 3D gear and she grinned. The spies who had captured her had been so confident in themselves and so sure that Sasha wouldn't get free that they hadn't bothered to take away her gear. Getting away from them was going to be quick and easy.

 

_Don't worry Armin. I'm coming back._

 


	6. And We Danced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> VOLTRON  
> Shiro/Lance
> 
> "Your favs dancing to club music."  
> Inspired by the song "And We Danced" by Macklemore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone likes it :) Thanks for reading and supporting my work. Comments and kudos are super duper appreciated!
> 
> (It is to be assumed that Lance is at least 18 in this situation.)  
> TRIGGER WARNING: Referenced underage drinking

Lance pushed open the shiny red double doors, entering the large room filled with bodies dancing to a song with a deep thrumming bass. There were multicolored lights everywhere that reflected off of anything luminous. He grinned as he entered the dance floor, weaving around the groups of people dancing and drinking. As he walked through the crowds, he observed the various people he passed. There was a tall, curvy girl with a martini glass, shaking her body to the song playing. There was a tan skinned young man that was engaged in a dance with a woman, his mouth to her neck. He watched as unidentified (likely alcoholic) sloshed out of the cups of several dancers.

 

His world stilled as he caught a glance of a man sitting at a table just off of the dance floor. He felt his heart in his throat as he checked out the man's sharp jawline, striking eyes, and his floofy hair that was black and white and stood up in the front in an almost gravity-defying way. The man looked up, looking right at Lance. His eyes glimmered, as they stared intensely.

 

Lance quickly averted his eyes and continued pushing through the dance floor, headed to the back of the room. That man. . he was extremely attractive. And Lance could've sworn he saw the man smirk at him.  _Who was he_? 

 

Lance shook his head and exited the dance floor, heading up to the bar and taking a seat on a cushy, red bar stool. His back to the bar, he leaned back onto the bar counter, resting both of his arms and his shoulders on it, facing the dance floor.  He closed his eyes, feeling the basic vibrating through his body. He lived for this; the music shaking through his soul, surrounded by people partying and enjoying themselves.

 

He felt someone tap his shoulder and he looked back at the person responsible. The bartender slid a drink toward Lance, who sat up eagerly and spun around to face the woman. "I didn't order a drink", Lance thought aloud. "Nope, but that handsome man over there bought you one", she responded, jerking a thumb towards the man who was now walking towards Lance, his hips swaying slightly as he walked, but his posture not a tick out of line. He stood tall, chin up, but still managed to look relaxed and collected. It was the same man Lance had just seen. Lance whirled his attention back to the bartender, but she was already halfway down the bar, serving another customer. Lance's breath caught in his throat as the man sat down next to him, smiling at him. "Looked like you needed a drink", the older man said. His voice was deep, but sounded calm enough. It was oddly comforting to hear the man speak to him.

 

Lance laughed, looking down at the short glass of dark liquid that was just inches from his fingers. "Wish I could accept the kind gesture, but I'm not old enough to drink."

 

The man smiled again, his smile sending an electric shock through Lance's body. The man's teeth were perfectly white, and his smile was simply breathtaking. "You can't tell me you've never had a drink before."

 

Lance scoffed jokingly. "Yeah, but not in public. Arrested isn't a good look for me."

 

The older man smiled. "I'm Shiro."

 

"I'm Lance."

 

"Well Lance, may I offer you a dance?" Shiro asked, nodding his head toward the crowded dance floor. Lance sucked in a breath as his eyes darted between Shiro and the dance floor. This extremely attractive man that he barely knew was offering him a dance. Shiro offered Lance a hand, and Lance mindlessly took it, before his brain had time to process. 

 

Lance allowed Shiro to lead him to the mass of dancing bodies, and he clutched Shiro's hand tightly as he was led through groups of people to the center of the dance floor. Shiro stopped walking and turned to face Lance. A person bumped Lance from behind, causing him to fall against Shiro's chest. Lance felt his face burn bright red as he tilted his head back to look up at Shiro, and he smiled awkwardly. Shiro's beautiful eyes glimmered back at him. "Sorry", Lance started, "someone bumped me and I didn't mean to-"

 

Shiro wrapped his arms around Lance's body, silencing him. "Don't worry about it. I like it better this way anyway."

 

Lance's worry softened and he allowed himself to be enveloped in Shiro's arms. He reached up his hands, clasping his hands behind the taller man's neck, smiling. As their bodies rocked together to the music, Lance wished he could stay here forever with this beautiful man.  _Shiro. That was a name he'd never forget_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this longer, but the more added, the more I felt like I just wasn't capturing the emotion that I wanted. Oh well, I'm happy with what I have. Comment and tell me what you thought, or leave a suggestion for what I should write next! :)


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